52. Caro

"Good morning."

The voice was British. And female. A doctor? I heaved my eyelids open—even my lashes seemed to hurt—and took in my visitor. Definitely not a doctor. She was close to my age, maybe a year or two older, with good skin and an athletic figure. But her eyes had a deepness to them, a haunted quality that said they'd seen a lot, none of it pleasant. And they were the strangest colour. Almost violet. She wore casual clothes—denim shorts and a tank top—and her blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

I was almost certain that I didn't know her. My head was fuzzy, but wouldn't I remember the accent? Wait, what if she was part of the mob of paparazzi that followed Luna around? This was exactly the sort of juicy story they'd love.

"No comment," I snarled, but she just laughed.

"I'm not a reporter."

"Then who are you?"

"I work with Knox."

My heart skipped, and not in a good way. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"Relax, he just went to hunt breakfast. The food here is shit, and he knows that firsthand."

"He said he got shot. It was bad?"

As he limped to the ambulance yesterday afternoon, he'd insisted it was no big deal, but I saw the pain he tried to hide. The doctors had stitched up his leg again, and now I was stuck here for "observation," which I suspected wasn't really necessary, but they liked to cover their asses. Somehow, I'd ended up in the fancy, private part of the hospital with my own room and a TV, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Where had all those flowers come from?

"Knox lost a bit of blood on Valentine Cay. Would've been worse if Luna hadn't got to him quickly."

"Luna?"

"She called Ryder, and he told her where to find the first-aid kit."

"I was worried they'd killed her. There was so much gunfire."

"Oh, they tried. Nice work with the speargun, by the way."

"Is he dead? The man I shot?"

I was almost certain he was, but it paid to make sure.

"As a doornail, whatever one of those is. You did a good job."

"Not good enough. They still took me."

"Eh, shit happens to the best of us." There were a few strands of hair stuck to my cheek, and she brushed them away, her touch featherlight. "How are you feeling?"

She wasn't asking out of obligation. Her tone, her expression, they suggested she genuinely cared. Her hand twitched toward mine, but she didn't touch me again.

"I… Not so good. Did they…did they tell you what he did to me?"

"It's a good thing Aiden's communing with the fishes. If he wasn't, I'd rip his fucking head off." She grinned, and the effect was chilling. "I'm speaking metaphorically, of course."

"I still keep expecting him to walk in."

"Rest easy." Her voice, her expression, her demeanour softened. "Words are inadequate at a time like this, but all I can say is that it will get better."

Was she saying what I thought she was saying? She seemed so strong, so confident.

"You were…?"

"Karma took longer to catch up with the men who raped me, but he got there in the end. Just know that people have your back."

Knox. By "people," she meant Knox, didn't she? When it came to my problems, he and karma were one and the same thing. I closed my eyes for a moment, processing. My brain was still running at half-speed today, tired after little sleep, emotionally drained after surviving the impossible. Was this a dream? The aches that spread through me every time I moved said otherwise.

"I…I don't understand what I did to deserve Knox. At first, I tried to keep him out, but…"

I'd told myself it was just a fling. A fling had been easy. But a relationship? The thought of getting serious scared me, but not as much as the prospect of losing him.

"The heart needs what the heart needs." The blonde rolled her eyes. "Sometimes that's a shiv, but Knox isn't one of those guys; don't worry."

"How can I not worry? He offered to help me, but we barely know each other. I love him, but is it enough? My judgment when it comes to men is terrible."

"Mine isn't, and he wouldn't be on my team if he was an arsehole."

So this was his boss? Emmy? He'd mentioned her once or twice, and he said she was crazy.

"I met Knox less than a month ago."

"Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith."

"Would you?"

"Eighteen years ago, I crossed paths with a guy in London, and a week later, I moved to Virginia to live with him."

"Love at first sight?"

"Hell no. I broke his nose." What? "But two years later, I married him, and I haven't killed him yet, so I guess things can work out."

"You broke his nose?"

"Yeah, but it healed pretty straight. Now it's a fun story to tell at parties." She studied me carefully, and her gaze crawled under my skin. Yes, this was definitely Emmy. "But you're right to be nervous. It's a big change, and I'd be more worried if you jumped in with no reservations, especially since you have a fuck ton of trauma to work through."

"I have so much baggage that I'd get thrown out of the airport."

"And you think he doesn't have any?" She chuckled softly. "The irony—you're wary of commitment in case you can't get rid of the guy later, and Knox holds back because he's scared of losing someone else he cares about."

"You mean the car wreck?"

"He told you about that?" Emmy seemed surprised.

"A couple of weeks ago."

"Then he's definitely decided you're the one because he never discusses that with anyone. Are you coming back to Virginia with him? Or do I need to brace for a flexible working request?" She sucked in a breath. "Or a resignation?"

"I…I'm not sure. I didn't feel safe here after Luna posted a picture of me online, but I was still deciding where to go. We spoke about Canada. Knox was going to visit."

"There's nothing stopping you from coming back to the US now, if that's what you want."

"I guess. But I don't want to be that woman. A burden. I mean, I have nothing. Nothing. What if he offers me a place to stay out of obligation, and it doesn't work out, and…and… I met Aiden when I was at my lowest point. My mom had just died, and he said he'd help me, but he broke me."

"Firstly, Knox isn't Aiden. Secondly, you met him before the latest round of shit happened. Thirdly, if he tried to fuck you over, he'd have me to deal with as well as you. Close your eyes."

"Huh?"

"Close your eyes. Do it." I obeyed because Emmy didn't seem the type of woman you argued with. "We're three months into the future. What does your life look like? Where do you want to be?"

"I can't… I don't know…"

"Focus on your breathing, and then let your mind wander," she told me.

So I did. In and out, in and out, in and out… And I saw…Knox. Sleeping beside me in a huge bed, one that didn't have a bunk above it. He looked so peaceful, sunlight slanting across his golden skin. I'd wake him with a soft kiss, and we'd eat breakfast together before we both headed to work. Or maybe I'd eat him instead? Work… I'd be back in an office again, but perhaps I'd choose a non-profit this time, so I could still help animals but without cleaning out turtle pools from dawn till dusk. I'd miss the turtles, but…three years of that life was enough, and…and I wouldn't be able to go back to the sanctuary without thinking of what happened that day. The way I'd been dragged across the sand toward a waiting boat, helpless to escape. If the grant from the Blackwood Foundation came through, I could leave without guilt.

Once, I'd focused on material things. Mom had worked in a high-end hotel, bowing and scraping to the rich and famous. With a start, I realised that maybe my past was the reason I'd pre-judged Luna. Not only due to her antics with the turtle, but because I'd spent my childhood listening to Mom's tales of celebrity excess. I'd been brought up to believe that they were better than us, that their life was something to aspire to, but now I understood that money couldn't buy happiness. I still craved security, but I wanted a simple home, one that could be filled with memories rather than shiny trinkets. And I wanted to make those memories with Knox Livingston.

I didn't need the kind of life I'd once wished for.

I just needed him.

I needed to know that whenever the past got too much for me to bear, he'd wrap me up in those strong arms and take the pain away.

And I'd do anything to get that, even moving to Virginia.

I'd been murmuring my thoughts to Emmy as I went, words pulled out of me by an invisible string mingling with the beep of machines and the squeak of shoes on tile in the hallway outside the room. The scrape of a pencil on paper. When I opened my eyes, Emmy handed me a note.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Security. You're worried things are moving too fast."

"I don't understand."

"It's an IOU for an apartment in Richmond. One year, rent-free. Either use it right away or save it for a rainy day. There's also a number for Corazon da Silva. She runs the Blackwood Foundation, and the last I heard, she was starting the search for a new accountant. The current guy is due to retire at the end of the year."

"You mean?—"

The door cracked open, and Knox appeared. My heart lurched. This man…he'd set me free. Did Emmy know he'd killed Aiden? She'd said he wouldn't be back, so I had to assume that she did. Knox had a crutch in one hand, coffee and a grease-spotted paper bag in the other, and I felt the smile spread across my face. His expression mirrored mine.

I had to try. I had to.

Emmy backed toward the door. "I'll leave the pair of you to it."